As I finish my ministry at Amazing Grace, I also finish my time blogging here at Not A Shouting Church. This blog, however, is not over. It will continue to be a communications tool of Amazing Grace Lutheran Church.
In this next chapter of my pastoral vocation, I will share thoughts and reflections at my new personal blog, http://borderpastor.wordpress.com.
God's peace,
Pastor Paul
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Pastor Paul's last Sunday
Today was my last Sunday at Amazing Grace. With exuberant hospitality, Amazing Grace marked the day with a potluck at noon. We also marked it liturgically during worship. With both sadness and deep gratitude, we had special prayer of thanksgiving for ministry, which included the congregation and I blessing each other. I would not have picked the lectionary text about adultery, lust and divorce, but the image from 1 Corinthians 3 was helpful for realizing that many people are involved in the work of ministry, but God is the actor. “I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the 
growth.”
I realize that all ministry is interim ministry, because there is something before and something after. I had not planned to be at Amazing Grace so short of a time; in some ways, I’m an “unintentional interim,” but I leave trusting in God’s grace. It is hard for a congregation to say goodbye to a pastor, but it is also hard for a pastor to say goodbye to a congregation.
As I leave Amazing Grace, I won’t see what happens next. I won’t see babies I baptized come to Sunday school. I won’t be the one visiting in the nursing home. I will no longer be pastor here, but will continue as your co-worker in the Gospel as a colleague in the conference and synod. Seeds planted for me here will come to fruition somewhere else. I have learned so much. We have learned so much together at Amazing Grace.
growth.”I realize that all ministry is interim ministry, because there is something before and something after. I had not planned to be at Amazing Grace so short of a time; in some ways, I’m an “unintentional interim,” but I leave trusting in God’s grace. It is hard for a congregation to say goodbye to a pastor, but it is also hard for a pastor to say goodbye to a congregation.
As I leave Amazing Grace, I won’t see what happens next. I won’t see babies I baptized come to Sunday school. I won’t be the one visiting in the nursing home. I will no longer be pastor here, but will continue as your co-worker in the Gospel as a colleague in the conference and synod. Seeds planted for me here will come to fruition somewhere else. I have learned so much. We have learned so much together at Amazing Grace.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
A Salty Wordle
Here is what I preached on Sunday. It's the salt and light passage from Matthew 5. As salty Christians, we can fuction as a healing, preserving, and melting presence in the world. There was an episode of Seinfeld a few years back where Kramer has a part in a Woody Allen film. His only line: "These pretzels are making me thirsty!"
My prayer is that our neighbors, our co-workers, the other kids in school, and all the world see us living out our faith and say, "These Christians are making me thirsty!" Thirsty for God's justice and love, that is. Just a few verses before that salt and light stuff, Jesus says, "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness..."
My prayer is that our neighbors, our co-workers, the other kids in school, and all the world see us living out our faith and say, "These Christians are making me thirsty!" Thirsty for God's justice and love, that is. Just a few verses before that salt and light stuff, Jesus says, "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness..."
Transitions
It’s getting to be time to say goodbye. This coming Sunday is my last at Amazing Grace before I take another call at a Spanish-speaking congregation near the border. I realize it’s relatively premature to leave Amazing Grace after only two years, and I greatly struggled with whether I should make this big transition or not.In the long run, I feel this is a good move for me and for the wider Church. It’s good stewardship to have bilingual clergy in settings where those gifts are greatly needed. In the short run, however, it seems difficult for Amazing Grace. We have had quite a bit of transition and change in the recent years: a new pastor, new musician, building repairs, dwindling attendance, financial uncertainty, turnover with lay leadership. Just as the congregation is getting used to me and just as we’re in the slow process of gaining momentum and renewing focus, I leave. It’s tough because I was looking forward to working with some newer leaders on Council, and I’m enjoying cooperating with two other congregations for Confirmation. We’re just at the point where we need to do some visioning and planning for the future.
Yet, I am hopeful for Amazing Grace. As sad as it is to leave, I realize that I am opening up an opportunity for another pastor. All ministry is interim ministry. I've planted seeds that someone else will harvest. This is an opportune time for Amazing Grace to do some careful discerning and planning. Amazing Grace is a pretty resilient people. Strengths I see: Amazing Grace is a pretty friendly place; there is a welcoming spirit. Amazing Grace likes to have fun. Amazing Grace has the grace to live with disagreement well. Whereas a few families have transferred membership and chosen not to worship due to disagreement with ELCA policies, Amazing Grace has not had the major conflict and division that other congregations in our synod have had. This is a good sign!
What’s next at Amazing Grace? We’re in the process of saying goodbye. Last night, I had an exit interview with our executive committee and the conference dean. It was a helpful time to name what went right and what to try to do better in the future. I’m spending these last days doing some final visits, packing up stuff, and getting the office in order. We’re finishing up some paperwork (ELCA parochial report, membership records), and I’m writing a “turnover book” with some instructions for the new pastor. Council is meeting this week to interview a possible interim pastor. Liturgically, we will say goodbye on Sunday with a litany of thanksgiving for ministry that will include mutual benediction: I bless the congregation and the congregation blesses me. Also, in good Amazing Grace style, we have food—there’s a potluck Sunday at 12 noon.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Prayer
A few weeks ago, I heard somebody say, “Prayer is advocacy.” I found that phrase to be helpful and reassuring. Oftentimes, I don’t feel that I do enough of “speaking for justice in behalf of the poor and oppressed,” which is part of my Letter of Call as a pastor of the ELCA.
When we pray, God is listening, but so are the others in the assembly. We make our concerns collective concerns. I’ve made it my discipline to compile the prayers for worship each week. I try to be mindful of events in our congregation and world. Sometimes the prayers from the hymnal or the liturgy websites are nice, but they don’t always speak to our present situations.
I frequently repeat petitions from week to week. Here are a few that I use almost every Sunday:
When we pray, God is listening, but so are the others in the assembly. We make our concerns collective concerns. I’ve made it my discipline to compile the prayers for worship each week. I try to be mindful of events in our congregation and world. Sometimes the prayers from the hymnal or the liturgy websites are nice, but they don’t always speak to our present situations.
I frequently repeat petitions from week to week. Here are a few that I use almost every Sunday:
Healing and sustaining God, you hold in your comforting hands all those who longI love Wordles because they help us see what words we use frequently in our writing. Here is a Wordle of about thirty weeks of prayers I have written at Amazing Grace. I had expected the words “hospitality,” “peace,” and “lament” to show up bigger than they did. I’m relieved that “God” ended up being pretty big, because it is God to whom we direct our prayers.
for healing and wholeness. Bring your reassuring presence and loving strength.
We especially lift up in prayer those we name either aloud or in the silence of
our hearts…
Welcoming God, help us embrace a spirit of hospitality.
Give us the courage to visit strangers. Be with those who do not always feel
welcomed in this world.
God of Time and Eternity, you enter our
world and journey with us, even to death on the cross. Your story becomes our
story. Be with us as we tell stories of our lives and listen to one another.
Holy God, we pray for peace. Be with people affected by violence
and disaster. Be with those affected by war and terrorism. Be with those who are
considered terrorists. We pray for our enemies. We pray for those who disagree
with us. Stir up in us the spirit of peace.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Prepositions
When reading my seminary’s alumni magazine, where people can send in updates about what they’re doing now, I noticed wide diversity in the prepositions pastors use to describe their calls. Thinking about these little two- and three- letter words might seem nit-picky, but they have major implications for how we think about the relationship between pastor and people. Am I pastor at, to, with, or from Amazing Grace, or all of these? I don’t think that there is necessarily a wrong answer, but it’s worth thinking about.
At: This is what I probably use most often in everyday speech, but boggles my theological sensibilities. I frequently introduce myself, “I am Paul Bailie, pastor at Amazing Grace Lutheran Church.” This seems to be the most natural to me, but it also presents an ecclesiology that is somewhat limited. “At” makes the church seem like a location or a place, when as Lutherans we understand the Church to be more than a building or an address, but the assembly of the saints. This goes along with my quixotic practice of avoiding the word “church” when talking about an individual congregation. The Church is the Body of Christ across time and space—something hard to pinpoint in a specific locus.
To: “To” seems a bit patronizing to me, like the pastor has all the answers and the people don’t. A large congregation I know describes one of their pastors as “pastor to the international community.” It’s like the immigrants need to be ministered to, instead of being active co-participants in the life of the ministry. Grammatically, I guess it’s ok, but it feels more condescending than I would like.
With: Maybe “with” seems more like the partnership that I’d aim for. I’m pastor with Amazing Grace. It sounds clumsy when you say it, but implies that the people of the congregation are ministers along with me. We are laborers in the vineyard together.
From: I don’t use “from” enough, as in “I am pastor from Amazing Grace.” This implies that I’m functioning as a representative of the congregation, doing ministry in the community. Our Lutheran church structure seems like it encourages the pastor to serve as a big deal in their own dukedom or bailiwick, instead of being an ambassador to the world.
At: This is what I probably use most often in everyday speech, but boggles my theological sensibilities. I frequently introduce myself, “I am Paul Bailie, pastor at Amazing Grace Lutheran Church.” This seems to be the most natural to me, but it also presents an ecclesiology that is somewhat limited. “At” makes the church seem like a location or a place, when as Lutherans we understand the Church to be more than a building or an address, but the assembly of the saints. This goes along with my quixotic practice of avoiding the word “church” when talking about an individual congregation. The Church is the Body of Christ across time and space—something hard to pinpoint in a specific locus.
To: “To” seems a bit patronizing to me, like the pastor has all the answers and the people don’t. A large congregation I know describes one of their pastors as “pastor to the international community.” It’s like the immigrants need to be ministered to, instead of being active co-participants in the life of the ministry. Grammatically, I guess it’s ok, but it feels more condescending than I would like.
With: Maybe “with” seems more like the partnership that I’d aim for. I’m pastor with Amazing Grace. It sounds clumsy when you say it, but implies that the people of the congregation are ministers along with me. We are laborers in the vineyard together.
From: I don’t use “from” enough, as in “I am pastor from Amazing Grace.” This implies that I’m functioning as a representative of the congregation, doing ministry in the community. Our Lutheran church structure seems like it encourages the pastor to serve as a big deal in their own dukedom or bailiwick, instead of being an ambassador to the world.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Friday, January 7, 2011
Talking about sex
When I was in sixth grade, while we were standing in line at the drug store, waiting for a prescription to be filled, my dad nervously pulled me aside and pointed at a display rack of little square boxes. Standing there in his green surplus-store parka and Elmer Fudd-style hat with ear flaps, he quietly instructed, in an avuncular whisper, "Son, these are prophylactic devices, used to prevent conception during sexual intercourse. Do you understand?"
"Yeah, Dad," I said matter-of-factly, "They're condoms."
Sometimes parents are uncomfortable talking to their children about sex. For the last couple years, Amazing Grace has tried to be a place for our middle schoolers to learn about sexuality in a frank and honest, yet loving and Christian, atmosphere. A wonderful woman in the congregation with a social work background and a few decades experience working with young people in all sorts of settings begins a ten-week series with our confirmation youth this Sunday. She uses Big Decisions, an abstinence-plus curriculum that many Texas school districts use, as well as Free in Christ to Care for the Neighbor: Lutheran Youth Talk about Human Sexuality, an ELCA resource that invites youth into having conversations about issues of sexuality.
When I first interviewed at Amazing Grace, this teacher was worried that I would try to squelch this class. On the contrary, I think that this is a very good thing. I am thankful that we have a skilled and loving teacher who is willing to equip our youth to live in our diverse and often difficult world, always reminding them that they are beloved Children of God.
A few years ago at a workshop for religious and medical professionals on HIV/AIDS, I heard Rev. Jeremiah Wright say that the reason church folk are so uncomfortable talking about homosexuality is that they are uncomfortable talking about sexuality of any sort. He is absolutely right. Let's start talking.
"Yeah, Dad," I said matter-of-factly, "They're condoms."
Sometimes parents are uncomfortable talking to their children about sex. For the last couple years, Amazing Grace has tried to be a place for our middle schoolers to learn about sexuality in a frank and honest, yet loving and Christian, atmosphere. A wonderful woman in the congregation with a social work background and a few decades experience working with young people in all sorts of settings begins a ten-week series with our confirmation youth this Sunday. She uses Big Decisions, an abstinence-plus curriculum that many Texas school districts use, as well as Free in Christ to Care for the Neighbor: Lutheran Youth Talk about Human Sexuality, an ELCA resource that invites youth into having conversations about issues of sexuality.
When I first interviewed at Amazing Grace, this teacher was worried that I would try to squelch this class. On the contrary, I think that this is a very good thing. I am thankful that we have a skilled and loving teacher who is willing to equip our youth to live in our diverse and often difficult world, always reminding them that they are beloved Children of God.
A few years ago at a workshop for religious and medical professionals on HIV/AIDS, I heard Rev. Jeremiah Wright say that the reason church folk are so uncomfortable talking about homosexuality is that they are uncomfortable talking about sexuality of any sort. He is absolutely right. Let's start talking.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Funeral planning
It might sound a bit morbid, but one of my favorite parts of being a pastor is officiating at funerals. It is a sad time, but funerals are among the times the Church is best the Church. We proclaim Christ crucified and risen. Now is the time we comfort each other in our grief, to mourn, to sing, to pray, to hope. There are hugs and food, and tears and prayers. We bring casseroles and condolences. We encounter the God who loves our loved one and who loves us.
Over two years ago, Amazing Grace had a series of adult forums about death and dying. A hospice chaplain, a geriatric physician, and I led discussion about end-of-life issues. I focused on the liturgical aspects of a funeral. From that discussion arose a desire to have some sort of worksheet that people could fill out now to think about what their funeral should be like, rather than waiting until their family members are sitting in some mortuary office wondering, “What was Grandma’s favorite hymn?” or “Where was that passage from Habakkuk that always gave Uncle Jack hope?” After two years of procrastination, I have finally put it together. It has been posted online (http://aglcsa.org/resouces/Funeral%20Planning%20Worksheet.pdf).
As Christian people, we trust in God’s promises of resurrection hope. Planning a funeral is a chance to reflect on how your life proclaims what God is doing.
Over two years ago, Amazing Grace had a series of adult forums about death and dying. A hospice chaplain, a geriatric physician, and I led discussion about end-of-life issues. I focused on the liturgical aspects of a funeral. From that discussion arose a desire to have some sort of worksheet that people could fill out now to think about what their funeral should be like, rather than waiting until their family members are sitting in some mortuary office wondering, “What was Grandma’s favorite hymn?” or “Where was that passage from Habakkuk that always gave Uncle Jack hope?” After two years of procrastination, I have finally put it together. It has been posted online (http://aglcsa.org/resouces/Funeral%20Planning%20Worksheet.pdf).
As Christian people, we trust in God’s promises of resurrection hope. Planning a funeral is a chance to reflect on how your life proclaims what God is doing.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Last Sunday's Wordle
Here is a Wordle of my Sermon from last Sunday. It was that text from Matthew 2 about the slaughter of the innocents and the flight to Egypt. I mentioned how Jesus is a refugee, and through this, God Incarnate comes to live in solidarity with all of our human suffering. I also reminded the congregation that our Synod is a Cherish our Children synod, meaning that we have voted to intentionally raise awareness about childhood sexual exploitation. It's a topic we don't talk about very often, because it is so uncomfortable. Yet God enters this broken world and encounters all our pain. In Christian worship, there is just as much room for lament as there is for praise. Rachel's song, weeping for her children because they are no more, is just as much a song of Christmas as Mary's Magnificat or the angel's Gloria. God can handle all of our prayers.
Prayer at the Close of the Year
Our congregation, Amazing Grace, has a longtime tradition of worshipping together on New Year's Eve. Since coming here, I've used the service as a chance to pray Compline. Instead of Prayer at the Close of the Day, we think of it as Prayer at the Close of the Year.
Compline is a quite, meditative service, originating from as early as the fourth century. It doesn't usually have a sermon or fancy processionals. Rather, the silence, the psalms, and the prayers are the main foci.
Tonight’s liturgy, prayers, and readings are full of images of day and night, of time changing, of the Earth moving.
From the opening dialog, "Almighty God, grant us a quiet night and peace at the last."
From Thomas Tallis' lovely hymn, "All praise to thee, my God, this night for all the blessings of the light...."
Every night, the earth will finish one more spin, one more revolution. The sun will set again, just has it has for years before humans can even remember. Tomorrow we will be awakened and welcomed to a new day.
The night of December 31’s spinning of the Earth is the same as all the others, but it is also different. We go from one year in our human markings of time to another. From 2010 to 2011.
We remember the year past: Haitian earthquakes. Health care. Lady Gaga.
Here at Amazing Grace: Construction projects. Trunk or Treat. VBS. Angel Food. Baptisms. Saints departed. New friends. New adventures. Epiphany. Lent. Easter. Pentecost. Advent. Christmas.
A lot has happened in a year. And a lot can happen in the next.
The Earth keeps spinning. Every day is a blessing from God, as is every year. God’s time is not always the same as our time. I love the words from Isaac Watts’ hymn:
A thousand ages in God’s sight
are like an evening gone,
Short as the watch that ends the night
before the rising sun (LBW # 320).
We do not know what will happen once the sun rises tomorrow. We do not know what 2011 will bring in our lives, in our neighborhood, in our congregation, in our country, in our world. Yet, we live with promises of God’s love, with hope for a God who does not forsake us, with peace as God’s parting gift for us.
Compline is a quite, meditative service, originating from as early as the fourth century. It doesn't usually have a sermon or fancy processionals. Rather, the silence, the psalms, and the prayers are the main foci.
Tonight’s liturgy, prayers, and readings are full of images of day and night, of time changing, of the Earth moving.
From the opening dialog, "Almighty God, grant us a quiet night and peace at the last."
From Thomas Tallis' lovely hymn, "All praise to thee, my God, this night for all the blessings of the light...."
Every night, the earth will finish one more spin, one more revolution. The sun will set again, just has it has for years before humans can even remember. Tomorrow we will be awakened and welcomed to a new day.
The night of December 31’s spinning of the Earth is the same as all the others, but it is also different. We go from one year in our human markings of time to another. From 2010 to 2011.
We remember the year past: Haitian earthquakes. Health care. Lady Gaga.
Here at Amazing Grace: Construction projects. Trunk or Treat. VBS. Angel Food. Baptisms. Saints departed. New friends. New adventures. Epiphany. Lent. Easter. Pentecost. Advent. Christmas.
A lot has happened in a year. And a lot can happen in the next.
The Earth keeps spinning. Every day is a blessing from God, as is every year. God’s time is not always the same as our time. I love the words from Isaac Watts’ hymn:
A thousand ages in God’s sight
are like an evening gone,
Short as the watch that ends the night
before the rising sun (LBW # 320).
We do not know what will happen once the sun rises tomorrow. We do not know what 2011 will bring in our lives, in our neighborhood, in our congregation, in our country, in our world. Yet, we live with promises of God’s love, with hope for a God who does not forsake us, with peace as God’s parting gift for us.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Thursday, December 9, 2010
An Advent Wordle
Here is a Wordle of last Sunday's sermon. I had hauled a big tree branch into the front of the chancel area and invited the assembly to choose how they see the tree--as a sign of repentance with shades of John the Baptist, or as a sign of what God is sprouting up, like the righteous branch of whic
h Isaiah speaks.
h Isaiah speaks.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Cross lights
We just lit up the cross. It’s a string of lights around it. There’s precedence for this: I have a 1992 church directory with a photo of a lit cross on the cover. We might keep them up for just Advent. Then again, it is a nice touch and perhaps worth keeping up all year.I have mixed feelings on lighting up a cross. On the one hand, we Christians have domesticated crosses. We wear crosses as jewelry and put them on our walls. It’s easy to forget that a cross is a tool of execution. People died on crosses. Imagine if you wore a necklace with a noose, an electric chair, or a vial of potassium chloride. It would be shocking and scandalous.
On the other hand, a cross tells people that we are Christians. At Amazing Grace, I think lighting the cross is a good sign. Our buildings are set back quite a distance from the road, and sometimes it’s hard to tell that we are a church. I’ve heard people think that we are a big house, a school, a convent, or some sort of cult compound. Lighting the cross is one way that we can be clearer about our mission. When somebody sees the cross, then they will know who we are.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
2010 Slideshow
Today was our annual congregational meeting. Besides electing leaders and approving a budget, we celebrated life together this year at Amazing Grace. Enjoy the show!
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Scripture genres
Our adult Sunday school class has been studying Making Sense of Scripture by David Lose. One of the exercises focused on think of scripture in terms of genre. A text has a different meaning whether it is poetry, letter, etc. The class broke into smaller groups to retell Luke 15:11-32 in different genres—supermarket tabloid and fairy tale. Here are the fun results (my best attempt at transcribing the handwritten poster sheets):
YOUNGER SON COMES BACK FROM VISITING PROSTITUTES IN HELL
Squandered his money on lurid living and loose women.
Dad is ecstatic at return of wayward ways and throws a block party with finest food.
Older son refuses to attend party for jackass brother.
Father tries to sooth ruffled feathers with love, apparently to no avail.
Is younger son’s conversion true, or was he just hungry and returning to Daddy with his tail between his legs? More of the story continues at www dot the bible revealed dot com.
Decide which is the Good Son
Once upon a time, Father had two sons. The young son got bored with chores and wanted his money now. The younger son thought life wasn’t entertaining, and told his father he wanted out. Father tried to dissuade the son, but eventually gave in.
He was feeding hogs, and one turned to a witch and said, “Get yourself together or I will turn you into a pig and send you over a cliff.” The son was defeated and said, “I must apologize and make amend before my father will accept me.” He got home and Father was so glad to see him; he accepted him back and gave him a part and fine clothes. The older son was PO’d, saying, “I stay here and sweat and get nothing; he is a jerk, leaves, spends all and now wants back and now gets more.”
Father is the Good Fairy and welcomes all together and tries to convince older son that this was OK. The Older son does not hear any of it. He becomes estranged from his his brother and very distant from Father. But Good Fairy came and waved a wand and the brothers started working out their differences before the brother died. And they lived happily ever after. The end.
YOUNGER SON COMES BACK FROM VISITING PROSTITUTES IN HELL
Squandered his money on lurid living and loose women.
Dad is ecstatic at return of wayward ways and throws a block party with finest food.
Older son refuses to attend party for jackass brother.
Father tries to sooth ruffled feathers with love, apparently to no avail.
Is younger son’s conversion true, or was he just hungry and returning to Daddy with his tail between his legs? More of the story continues at www dot the bible revealed dot com.
Decide which is the Good Son
Once upon a time, Father had two sons. The young son got bored with chores and wanted his money now. The younger son thought life wasn’t entertaining, and told his father he wanted out. Father tried to dissuade the son, but eventually gave in.
He was feeding hogs, and one turned to a witch and said, “Get yourself together or I will turn you into a pig and send you over a cliff.” The son was defeated and said, “I must apologize and make amend before my father will accept me.” He got home and Father was so glad to see him; he accepted him back and gave him a part and fine clothes. The older son was PO’d, saying, “I stay here and sweat and get nothing; he is a jerk, leaves, spends all and now wants back and now gets more.”
Father is the Good Fairy and welcomes all together and tries to convince older son that this was OK. The Older son does not hear any of it. He becomes estranged from his his brother and very distant from Father. But Good Fairy came and waved a wand and the brothers started working out their differences before the brother died. And they lived happily ever after. The end.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
An Advent video
Here is my newest experiment in video creation. The brown bear with the white eye patch seems to be a wise liturgical theologian. Enjoy!
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Thanksgiving 2010
Tonight I’m wearing my great-grandfather’s cufflinks. I think I inherited them by default. My aunt said I was the only one of the male cousins who would ever wear a shirt that would use cufflinks. His name was Parelius, and came from Norway by way of Philadelphia, and lived in South Dakota before settling and farming the prairies of western Minnesota. He died in the 1940s, when my mom was just a small girl. I don’t know much about him, but I have his cufflinks. A wandering Norwegian was my ancestor.
That’s on my mom’s side. On my dad’s side, we’ve traced the genealogy back to Colonel Morgan Morgan (creative name, right?) He came from Wales and is thought to be the first white settler in what is now West Virginia. A wandering Welshman was my ancestor. When curious about family history in high school, I looked him up in the big ol’ encyclopedia in the basement, and it said that is cabin had special slots in the walls, convenient for shooting at Indians.
We all have stories—our personal stories, family stories, national stories, church stories. Some parts of our story we want to remember and cling to, like my cufflinks. Others we might be embarrassed or ashamed of, and would rather forget, like my ancestor’s marksmanship skills. For better or worse, they are a part of who we are.
The ancient Israelites remembered. “A wandering Aramean was my ancestor.”
They remember Abraham packing up and heading to a new land.
They remembered their ancestors being led out of slavery in Egypt traveling in the wilderness, going into unknown territory, trusting God.
They respond to God’s goodness with offering—first fruits.
They gave as offering not next-day leftovers, but the best of what they had.
They recognized that their possessions did not belong to them, but to God.
Today we also remember another group of people traveling in the wilderness, going into unknown territory, trusting God. Our American Thanksgiving Day is framed through the perspective of a certain 17th-century religious sect. The Pilgrims were Separatists who disagreed with the Church of England and traveled across the ocean to a place they called Plymouth. 1621, they celebrated what came to be known as Thanksgiving, to which they invited the Wampanoags, a Native American tribe, who had helped them settle and plant new crops in the new land.
When doing a small group Bible study this year on the book of Judges, I have started to realize that the nation-forming narrative of the people of Israel entering into the land of Canaan seems very similar to the nation-forming narrative of European settlement into the United States.
Both groups fervently believed that God had led them into a new land.
Both created rites, rituals, ceremonies, and traditions to commemorate their entry.
Both discovered that there were already people there: distinct and unique groups with their own vibrant cultures.
Israelites met Canaanites, Amorites, Philistines.
Europeans met Wampanoags, Iroquois, and Mohawk.
This week, I came across an article by Rev. Robert Two Bulls, an Episcopal priest in California who is a member of the Oglala Lakota tribe. He writes: “Every year when Thanksgiving Day approaches, I feel without fail a growing consternation inside me. I attribute this feeling to the inevitable emergence of the whitewashed historical record of this day and to the sudden attention that America directs toward the Native American Indians. It is an awareness that wakes up every year after Halloween and then will go back to sleep when the last scrap of turkey is devoured.”
Like with most narratives, there are parts of the Thanksgiving story that I wish weren’t there:
The Wampanoag town had been wiped out by smallpox.
Squanto, the man who helped the Pilgrims, only knew English because he had been previously captured and sold into slavery in England.
On the other hand, there are parts of the Thanksgiving story I really like and want to lift up:
The Pilgrims trusted in God throughout a time of difficulty and hardship.
They gathered together in fellowship around food and community.
If we really believe that God is Lord of the Universe, Sovereign, and Eternal, like we just proclaimed on Christ the King Sunday, then we realize that God is with us, in the midst of our human suffering, as well as our human joys.
Just as God hears the shouts of Thanksgiving from the Pilgrims, so too does God hear the cries of lament from the Wampanoags.
Just as God hears the thankful prayers of the Israelites, so too does God hears the sorrowful songs of the Canaanites.
I believe that often our times of feeling the most thankful are those times where we’ve experienced the deepest tragedy.
Martin Rinkart was a Lutheran pastor in Germany during the Thirty Years’ War. His town had many refugees entering the gates. The Swedish army surrounded the city, and famine and plague were rampant. Eight hundred homes were destroyed, and the people began to perish. Eventually Rinkart was the only pastor left—doing 50 funerals a day. Rinkart left the safety of the walls to plead with the Swedes for mercy. The Swedish commander, impressed by his faith and courage, lowered his demands. Soon afterward, the Thirty Years’ War ended, and Rinkart wrote the hymn we’ll sing later tonight. One funeral is hard enough. I can’t imagine fifty.
After seeing all the terror of war, he was still able to pray:
Now thank we all our God, with hearts and hands and voices.
Who wondrous things has done, in whom this world rejoices.
I acknowledge that on holidays like Thanksgiving, it can be difficult to have ever-joyous hearts when there are people who aren’t at the table. The Thanksgiving after my dad died, my mom decided not to cook a turkey. My sister was back overseas, so it was just Mom and me. Instead we went with “Dorothy,” a woman from my mom’s circle from church. Her husband had died decades before, and her kids were far away. Mom didn’t want her to be alone. The three of us went to Buffet King and had Chinese food.
Thanksgiving really isn’t about the food. My memories of turkey and stuffing also include memories of kung-pao shrimp and Mongolian beef. It’s not about having the perfect sweet potato pie or cranberry soufflé, but about togetherness, memory, and the presence of God.
Tonight our Thanksgiving meal is not mashed potatoes or crab Rangoons, but bread and wine.
We celebrate Thanksgiving not because we want to glorify and romanticize the Pilgrims, but because this national holiday gives us an opportunity to do once more what we as Christians do week after week—give thanks to God. We eat. We pray. We remember.
I realize that our American Thanksgiving Day is not traditionally a Church holiday, though giving thanks is certainly part of what we do as Christians.
Christians have many names for this meal of Christ’s Body and Blood (Holy Communion, The Lord’s Supper, Divine Office, Mass, and Eucharist)
The word Eucharist literally means Thanksgiving. When we receive Christ’s body and blood, we take and eat with a spirit of thanksgiving for all that God has done for us.
Every time we take Communion, it is a Thanksgiving Dinner. Thank you, God.
Every time we take Communion, it is a act of memory.
“Do this in remembrance of me.”
We remember.
I have a story. You have a story. Each of us has a story. Some parts we want to cling to, others we long to forget. But tonight we remember. We remember that our story is not just our story. God is a part of it.
Amen.
That’s on my mom’s side. On my dad’s side, we’ve traced the genealogy back to Colonel Morgan Morgan (creative name, right?) He came from Wales and is thought to be the first white settler in what is now West Virginia. A wandering Welshman was my ancestor. When curious about family history in high school, I looked him up in the big ol’ encyclopedia in the basement, and it said that is cabin had special slots in the walls, convenient for shooting at Indians.
We all have stories—our personal stories, family stories, national stories, church stories. Some parts of our story we want to remember and cling to, like my cufflinks. Others we might be embarrassed or ashamed of, and would rather forget, like my ancestor’s marksmanship skills. For better or worse, they are a part of who we are.
The ancient Israelites remembered. “A wandering Aramean was my ancestor.”
They remember Abraham packing up and heading to a new land.
They remembered their ancestors being led out of slavery in Egypt traveling in the wilderness, going into unknown territory, trusting God.
They respond to God’s goodness with offering—first fruits.
They gave as offering not next-day leftovers, but the best of what they had.
They recognized that their possessions did not belong to them, but to God.
Today we also remember another group of people traveling in the wilderness, going into unknown territory, trusting God. Our American Thanksgiving Day is framed through the perspective of a certain 17th-century religious sect. The Pilgrims were Separatists who disagreed with the Church of England and traveled across the ocean to a place they called Plymouth. 1621, they celebrated what came to be known as Thanksgiving, to which they invited the Wampanoags, a Native American tribe, who had helped them settle and plant new crops in the new land.
When doing a small group Bible study this year on the book of Judges, I have started to realize that the nation-forming narrative of the people of Israel entering into the land of Canaan seems very similar to the nation-forming narrative of European settlement into the United States.
Both groups fervently believed that God had led them into a new land.
Both created rites, rituals, ceremonies, and traditions to commemorate their entry.
Both discovered that there were already people there: distinct and unique groups with their own vibrant cultures.
Israelites met Canaanites, Amorites, Philistines.
Europeans met Wampanoags, Iroquois, and Mohawk.
This week, I came across an article by Rev. Robert Two Bulls, an Episcopal priest in California who is a member of the Oglala Lakota tribe. He writes: “Every year when Thanksgiving Day approaches, I feel without fail a growing consternation inside me. I attribute this feeling to the inevitable emergence of the whitewashed historical record of this day and to the sudden attention that America directs toward the Native American Indians. It is an awareness that wakes up every year after Halloween and then will go back to sleep when the last scrap of turkey is devoured.”
Like with most narratives, there are parts of the Thanksgiving story that I wish weren’t there:
The Wampanoag town had been wiped out by smallpox.
Squanto, the man who helped the Pilgrims, only knew English because he had been previously captured and sold into slavery in England.
On the other hand, there are parts of the Thanksgiving story I really like and want to lift up:
The Pilgrims trusted in God throughout a time of difficulty and hardship.
They gathered together in fellowship around food and community.
If we really believe that God is Lord of the Universe, Sovereign, and Eternal, like we just proclaimed on Christ the King Sunday, then we realize that God is with us, in the midst of our human suffering, as well as our human joys.
Just as God hears the shouts of Thanksgiving from the Pilgrims, so too does God hear the cries of lament from the Wampanoags.
Just as God hears the thankful prayers of the Israelites, so too does God hears the sorrowful songs of the Canaanites.
I believe that often our times of feeling the most thankful are those times where we’ve experienced the deepest tragedy.
Martin Rinkart was a Lutheran pastor in Germany during the Thirty Years’ War. His town had many refugees entering the gates. The Swedish army surrounded the city, and famine and plague were rampant. Eight hundred homes were destroyed, and the people began to perish. Eventually Rinkart was the only pastor left—doing 50 funerals a day. Rinkart left the safety of the walls to plead with the Swedes for mercy. The Swedish commander, impressed by his faith and courage, lowered his demands. Soon afterward, the Thirty Years’ War ended, and Rinkart wrote the hymn we’ll sing later tonight. One funeral is hard enough. I can’t imagine fifty.
After seeing all the terror of war, he was still able to pray:
Now thank we all our God, with hearts and hands and voices.
Who wondrous things has done, in whom this world rejoices.
I acknowledge that on holidays like Thanksgiving, it can be difficult to have ever-joyous hearts when there are people who aren’t at the table. The Thanksgiving after my dad died, my mom decided not to cook a turkey. My sister was back overseas, so it was just Mom and me. Instead we went with “Dorothy,” a woman from my mom’s circle from church. Her husband had died decades before, and her kids were far away. Mom didn’t want her to be alone. The three of us went to Buffet King and had Chinese food.
Thanksgiving really isn’t about the food. My memories of turkey and stuffing also include memories of kung-pao shrimp and Mongolian beef. It’s not about having the perfect sweet potato pie or cranberry soufflé, but about togetherness, memory, and the presence of God.
Tonight our Thanksgiving meal is not mashed potatoes or crab Rangoons, but bread and wine.
We celebrate Thanksgiving not because we want to glorify and romanticize the Pilgrims, but because this national holiday gives us an opportunity to do once more what we as Christians do week after week—give thanks to God. We eat. We pray. We remember.
I realize that our American Thanksgiving Day is not traditionally a Church holiday, though giving thanks is certainly part of what we do as Christians.
Christians have many names for this meal of Christ’s Body and Blood (Holy Communion, The Lord’s Supper, Divine Office, Mass, and Eucharist)
The word Eucharist literally means Thanksgiving. When we receive Christ’s body and blood, we take and eat with a spirit of thanksgiving for all that God has done for us.
Every time we take Communion, it is a Thanksgiving Dinner. Thank you, God.
Every time we take Communion, it is a act of memory.
“Do this in remembrance of me.”
We remember.
I have a story. You have a story. Each of us has a story. Some parts we want to cling to, others we long to forget. But tonight we remember. We remember that our story is not just our story. God is a part of it.
Amen.
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